


For The Nights I Can't Remember

by BoatsNHoes



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, I think this counts, M/M, Sex, Songfic, Violence, big fight right off the bat, but i'm also awful at writing action sequences, dave strider gets his ass kicked, davekat - Freeform, he's kind of an ass, i might make it it's own chapter so people can skip if they like, is that a thing?, more tags will be added, mostly cause we all enjoy a good smut, sex will be had in the future, this isn't a good guardian bro fic, transgender character, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8217130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoatsNHoes/pseuds/BoatsNHoes
Summary: "For me I'm used to being tired and bloody.." - 'For the Nights I Can't Remember', Hedley
Your name is Dave Strider and you really don’t know how you get yourself into this shit. You thought you had everything planned out, fucking down to the second. But there’s always a fucking catch, isn’t there?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another excuse to keep me awake, I honestly just wanted to sit and write for a while. So this is what happens, I know I updated the other one with a short chapter, and that's probably cause I had this gnawing at me. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> ~Kan

Your name is Dave Strider and you really don’t know how you get yourself into this shit. You thought you had everything planned out, fucking down to the second. But there’s always a fucking catch, isn’t there? 

You raise your fists, wiping your nose on your sleeve, “s’that all ya got?”

You might be outnumbered three to one, but you have absolutely nothing to lose right now. You had your four minutes in the spotlight, now you’re going to fucking defend yourself in an alleyway outside of a fucking warehouse. You can hear the thumping beat of another up and coming musician is throwing down his beats.

“This kid don’t know when to fucking quit!” The bigger of the three punctuates his sentence with another blow to your face. Shit, that stings like a mother fucker. “Trying to be a fuckin hero aren’t you?”

You recover, keeping your fists raised and then taking a swing, “I’m no hero...”

Haha, fucking contact! You take him down a peg, and it’s about time. He over balances and lands on his ass, you feel a little pride in your chest at that, but you know better than to get over excited about just a hit. You still have two others trying to get at you. Bro would be fuckin pissed if he could see you like this. He taught you how to fight better, but you can’t seem to remember how to move your body with this blood on your hands. Of all the things to squig you out, it had to be fucking blood.

You hear the doors open, probably another group of friends heading out to live it up like they’re invincible. A luxury that seems fucking unattainable right now. The slimmer of the three is able to get one of your arms wrenched behind your back, leaving you pretty fucking vulnerable. 

“Kid needs to fucking go home.” The big guy cracks his knuckles, winding back and punching you in your stomach. Fuck, you didn’t know that’s what it felt like to have no air in your lungs. 

You think you hear footsteps or maybe it’s the blood rushing in your ears. Fuck you hate that feeling. You brace yourself for another solid hit, but it doesn’t come. Your ears are invaded by a loud raspy voice coming from… fuck, heaven probably. Maybe you’re finally dead. 

“YO! What the FUCK are you guys doing!?” This short redhead comes into your tunnel vision, “The three of you are fucking pathetic, taking on one guy?”

Poor kid is gonna get his ass handed to him. You try to say something, but your voice is a croak. He looks over at you and gives you this… pitiful look. You don’t know how you feel about being pitied, Bro would fucking scold you for letting someone pity you. The skinny one holding you lets you fall to the ground as they start to circle around the redhead.

“What’s a puny fuck like you gonna do to stop us?” 

“Yeah, you look like you could barely take on someone your own size.” They snicker at him. 

He doesn’t waver, he doesn’t even flinch, “I’ll call up Gamzee Makara and tell him to cut off three fucks that hang around the warehouse. He wouldn’t sell to any of you or your friends again. Now, get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and call him anyway.”

That shuts all three of them up, they exchange glances before scoffing and running away with their tails between their legs. The boy waits until he’s sure they’re gone before coming over to you, “Shit.. they really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

He gets his hands hooked under your arms and pulls you to your feet, he lets you lean heavily on him. Not really saying much as he gets you situated against him.

“Look, I know you’re probably hurting like a mother fucker, but I need you to walk with me ok? We’ll go slow, but you have to stay awake with me. Talk to me if it doesn’t hurt too bad, uhh, got a name?” He looks at you, hooking his arm around your waist and your arm over his shoulders. 

You take a breath, trying to keep your breathing as even as possible, “D-a’e” 

Shit, you’ve probably got a fat lip. Why is pronouncing things so hard? You try to keep your head up, taking little steps with this kid as he leads you… wherever he’s taking you. You’d try to ask, if words weren’t fucking impossible right now. 

“Ok, why don’t you like… grunt in response to my questions, ok? Once for yes, twice for no?” He’s trying hard to make sure you stay conscious. You let out a weak groan, “Cool. Ok, so…. Did you perform at open mic tonight?”

You let out another groan. That means he saw the show. Fuck, that means he heard you rap. FUCK. That’s embarrassing. He’s actually pretty strong for a tiny thing, you’re leaning really heavily on him. You want to ask his name, you don’t think he’d understand what you’re trying to ask though. 

Your perception of time is all fucked up, because you swear to god, you blink and suddenly he’s trying to sit you down on a couch. “Ok, stay put, you need a lot of fucking ice. And maybe a strong drink..”

He disappears before coming back into view, holding an icepack wrapped in a towel and a damp washcloth, “Bear with me, I have to clean you up at least a little. Nobody wants to wake up with dried blood on their face.”

He holds your chin gently, he has such small hands, and starts patting your face with the damp cloth, “Shit, those assholes didn’t deserve to walk away like they did. I can probably call the cops?”

You shake your head, Bro can’t find out about this. At least, not that you pulled a cop out and called the police. It clearly wasn’t what this kid wanted to hear though. 

“We can’t let them get off without any kind of consequences, maybe I should call Gam anyway.” He frowns, he must do it a lot. Frowning, you mean. 

Now that you’re getting a good look at him… he’ really cute. Like, fuck man. He’s way out of your league, but you would put your best foot forward for this guy. You know, if he hadn’t found you with a swollen face and covered in blood. And honestly, what are the chances that someone like him is even available? He’s got those big green eyes that can’t hide shit. They open him like a book, dark circles and all. 

 

“My name is Karkat, by the way. But I’ll make sure to remind you in the morning, I know it’s been one big shit show for you tonight. At least that means it can’t get worse right?” He gives you a soft smile. That looks much better on him.

Your tunnel vision finally starts to clear, but of course that means you catch sight of the bloody wash cloth. Your breath catches and you swear to god your esophagus shortens because you end up puking on poor Karkat’s floor. Thank god for hardwood. 

“…. Well, I was wrong.” He helps you lay down, “Just… stay here, it looks like you didn’t hit your head or anything. But I’ll keep an eye on you while you sleep.” 

He covers you with the softest blanket as he grabs a bucket to start cleaning up where you threw up. You watch him work, you feel bad doing it because you want to help him. He glances up at you every now and then with those pretty green eyes, then looks back down. 

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you remember waking up because it’s like a fucking fire is set off all along your torso. “Ffffuck…” You groan

“Holy shit, you’re awake. I was starting to worry.” He’s there. Sitting in a chair next to the couch, “How do you feel?”

“Like I was hit by a truck. But alive.” You sit up slowly, your back cracking the entire way. Jesus Christ you feel fucking awful. “Its.. Karkat right?”

“Huh? Oh! Oh yeah, I’m Karkat. You tried to tell me your name last night? At least, I think you did?” He offers you a glass of water. Fuck, water sounds great. 

You drink it a little faster than was probably healthy, but it tastes so good. “Dave Strider.”

“Dave. Nice to meet you.” It looks like the poor guy didn’t get any sleep.

“So, tell me Doc, how bad do I look?” You give him a cheeky smirk, but you can feel your left side of your face all swollen. Probably have a pretty nasty black eye. 

“You look like a shower would feel like ecstasy. I can give you one of my brother’s bathrobes. I have like three of them.” He stands, taking the glass from you, “I can probably make some food while you’re in there.”

“That sound’s fucking amazing. Um… would you mind if I washed my clothes here?” You really don’t want to put on these blood stained clothes again. And you’d hate to puke on the floor again. 

“Sure dude, just leave them on the bathroom floor and I’ll grab them while you’re in there.” He’s being really nice to you, a complete stranger. You need to do something really nice for him when you’re not feeling like total shit.


End file.
